


In The Gray

by magisterpavus



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Best Friends, Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Cuddling & Snuggling, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Haunting, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Voyeurism, because i haven't done that yet SO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: Shiro secretly loves Keith. Keith secretly loves Shiro. But there are...a few problems.One, Shiro’s trapped on the astral plane.Two, Keith doesn’t know that.Three, Kuron.(DAY 3: SECRETS)





	In The Gray

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I shouldn't really be surprised that 'ghost sex' is a firmly established tag already. Also, if y'all haven't already noticed, I just cannot write plain old pwp. This is gonna be a pattern throughout the week, this is the longest one but there are some close contenders ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ help me lol
> 
> as always thank you for your comments and kudos, they make me smile~
> 
> support me on tumblr [@saltyshiro](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/), beautiful art by [@nsfwgummi](https://nsfwgummi.tumblr.com/post/164763476223/in-the-grey-by-saltyshiro-nsfw-week-day-3)

Dying was…confusing.

Shiro had been near death before. He was convinced it had taken a liking to him and followed him without quarter; a shadow that needed no sun to creep behind him wherever he went. He had known this when he joined Team Voltron, he had been reminded of it when Haggar’s magic ripped through him; he had narrowly avoided it in the ravine when Keith had saved him in the Black Lion. But even then, Shiro had known it was inevitable. Keith hadn’t understood, had vehemently protested when Shiro spoke of legacies and leadership and endings. _Nothing is going to happen to you, Shiro._

But it already had, over and over again, and it was only a matter of time.

And this, apparently, was his time.

There had been light. White light, cliché as it was, but that was the only way Shiro could describe it. It hadn’t been a peaceful sort of light, though – it was white-hot, burning, searing him to his core and he was vaguely aware of a sound, a scream echoing through a long tunnel, and thought it must be his own.

The Black Lion must’ve been hit – had it been destroyed?

What kind of explosion could possibly cause this? Atomic, he thought blurrily, it must be, because it felt like his _particles_ were being rearranged. Torn apart, rather. There was another scream, distinctly different from his own – an inhuman, agonized roar; _Zarkon._

Well, that didn’t make sense. Had Zarkon been hit, too?

Then everything was moving very fast, a whirl of colors and sound and Shiro could do nothing but let himself, or what was left of himself, be carried along with it. Soon, he was sure, he would lose all semblance of consciousness, and everything that made Shiro, Shiro…would be gone. Lost to the cosmos forever. Dying in space was a lonely thing. The heat faded. Everything was cold, numb, empty, and he waited for nothingness to overtake him.

But it never did.

He opened his eyes, though he did not remember ever closing them.

He was in his room in the Castle of Lions.

_What?_ he said, dumbly.

Shiro paused. Was that his voice? It didn’t sound like his voice. It sounded…weirdly distant. Like an echo. He took a step forward. That felt strange, too. He felt lighter. Colder. With some trepidation, he started towards the door, and reached for the scanner…only to freeze in shock and dismay.

_There was nothing there._

He looked down at himself. Nothing. He was…he was _nothing_. Fingers (or what should have been fingers, but was now only empty air) trembling, Shiro reached out and touched the door. He passed right through it – all he had to do was think, and he was on the other side of the door, standing (hovering? Materializing?!) in the empty hallway.

_What the fuck,_ Shiro whispered in his new, hollow voice. There was no answer given, no explanation, nothing but the muted sound of familiar voices down the hall. With trepidation, Shiro followed them to their source, finding once again that he could move where he wanted to with a single thought.

The thought was, _Keith._

And so he found himself beside Keith, who was standing in front of all the others, pain written in every line of his face. Just as Shiro had feared, Keith made no indication of realizing Shiro was there – none of them did. Nobody so much as looked in his direction – whatever he was now, it was not a part of their world, the living world. His gut twisted – or did he even have guts? His head hurt. Fuck. Did he have a head either? Shiro shook his maybe-head and refocused his attention.

The group was silent. Weirdly silent, with a heaviness in the air; a bone-deep sorrow. Keith’s head was bowed.

“We searched for hours, Keith,” Allura said after a few more moments. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Keith said, half to himself. “There was no body – no sign of ejection or damage in the Lion. He’s just…gone.”

Shiro blinked. Huh. So…maybe not dead? Dead people tended to leave bodies behind. Which really begged the question: if his body wasn’t in the Black Lion, and it wasn’t in space, then _where was it?_ Did he just…not have a body anymore? Had something in him just made an executive decision to become incorporeal from here on out? Because Shiro had a few issues with that. Losing an arm was one thing. Losing his _entire body_ was a whole other ballgame.

“Listen, buddy, I know it’s weird,” Lance said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “But…Zarkon’s not gonna wait while we keep looking.”

“Zarkon’s out of commission, remember,” Pidge piped up. She looked misty-eyed behind her glasses, and there was none of her usual energy in her small frame as she spoke. “Whatever happened hurt him pretty bad, too. So, no Shiro, but also no Zarkon.”

Also news to Shiro. Was there a ghost Zarkon out there somewhere, too, haunting some unlucky Galra ship? Yikes.

“Yay, optimism,” Hunk sniffled unhappily.

“The Empire will not be without a ruler for long,” Allura said with certainty. “They will find another, and soon. We must do the same.”

“I can’t believe this,” Keith exclaimed, “Shiro’s barely even gone and you’re already talking about replacing him?”

Coran frowned. “Keith, you know that’s not what the Princess intends –”

“That’s exactly what she intends,” Keith retorted fiercely. “Because all that matters is Voltron, right? Defenders of the Universe. And when one of us gets left behind, we move on, because being a team doesn’t really mean anything after all, does it?” He turned away, hands curling into fists at his sides, then loosening with effort. “I…I’m sorry. I know that’s not...” He sighed. “I just need…I need some space. Right now.”

Allura’s brow furrowed. “Keith…” She started forward, but Coran stopped her gently, shaking his head.

“We’re here for you if you need us, buddy,” Lance called as Keith walked slowly away, every step seeming arduous for him.

Shiro followed Keith instinctively, and so only he heard Keith say under his breath, “Never needed anybody but myself,” as he left the room.

_Keith,_ Shiro tried, trailing after him as he hurried off around the corner and down the hall. Keith couldn’t hear him, didn’t reply or react even when Shiro tried to touch his shoulder. His hand just went straight through, and Keith just kept walking. A part of him had known it wouldn’t work, but it still hurt, still filled him with a uniquely awful feeling of frustration and sadness to see Keith hurting over him while he was _right there._

Shiro expected Keith to go to his room, but instead Keith continued down the hall, and stopped in front of Shiro’s room. He stared blankly at the metal for a moment before pressing his hand to the scanner. The doors remained shut. Keith sighed, resigned, and turned to go back to his door.

Impulsively, Shiro darted forward and touched the scanner.

The door opened.

_Huh._ So he still had a detectable handprint?

Keith jumped at the electronic _whoosh_ , eyes wide as he stared at the scanner, then the open door, brows drawing together. He eyed the scanner suspiciously. “Must’ve calibrated it differently or something,” he muttered to himself after a long pause, and then slowly walked in.

The door swished shut behind him, locking with an electronic click that made Keith tense briefly. _Always on guard,_ Shiro thought fondly, though it was sad if he thought about it too much.

Shiro settled himself in the corner as he watched Keith walk the length of his bedroom, boots thudding on the shiny floor. His hands were clenched into fists again and he was pacing, seemingly trying to rein himself in, to find control, and failing. He finally stopped in the middle of the room, tipped his head up to the ceiling, and _yelled._

Shiro didn’t know if ghosts could be startled, but he felt pretty startled.

Keith wasn’t done. He let out a long, furious string of curses and punched the wall a couple of times for good measure. Shiro could practically see the bruises forming on his knuckles; Keith’s gloves did little to protect his hands. Keith didn’t seem to care. By the time he collapsed on the floor, falling on his knees with a defeated sound, he looked utterly drained. His hair hung in his face, his shoulders drooped, his eyes were dark and shining.

Shiro moved towards him. _Please don’t cry. Oh god, please don’t make me watch you cry, Keith._

“You knew,” Keith whispered, his voice shaky, but not breaking yet. “You knew you were going to leave us. To leave me. I didn’t believe you, but you knew.” He drew in a deep, unsteady breath. “But you gotta come back now, Shiro,” he pleaded. “You have to, okay? I know you wanted me to lead them but I can’t. I can’t be you, Shiro. We both know that.”

_You don’t have to be me,_ Shiro said, _don’t be me, Keith, just be you. The team needs you, now._

“I know you’re still out there,” Keith declared, lifting his head and narrowing his eyes at the wall. “I’m not giving up on you yet, Shiro.”

_Keith, I’m here,_ Shiro whispered.

But Keith rose to his feet without looking at the corner where Shiro stood, and left him alone in his room.

He was tempted to yell and pound his fists against the walls just as Keith had, but Shiro knew no one could hear him no matter how loud he screamed.

*

Shiro was now firmly convinced that the Universe didn’t want him to die after all.

The Universe wanted him to _suffer._

And suffer he did. Shiro had been tortured before; he had a high tolerance for pain after so many needles had pierced through his skin, so many harsh floggings had torn him open, and so many battles had ended in close victories that didn’t feel like victories at all when he was bleeding out on the sand from a hundred stinging wounds. But this was a different kind of torture, a psychological torment that he could not escape. Isolation was a dangerous thing; Shiro would have likely gone mad in his cell on the Galra ship if not for his frequent visits to the arena and talks with Sendak and other Galran commanders. Those conversations had been brief and unpleasant, sure, but they’d still been conversation.

There was no conversation now. To be exact – there was conversation everywhere, a constant chatter somewhere on the ship at any given time; but none of it was ever directed at Shiro, and he could reply to no one. He had been able to cope with being ignored by the Galra because they were strangers, cruel strangers at that, and he had been stoic in ignoring them right back.

But the paladins were not strangers. And yet he was forced to watch as they mourned him, patched each other up, and moved on as best they could. Some of them were better at coping than others, and they all had their different methods.

Hunk and Lance went out on recruitment missions together and, from what Shiro had gathered, were working with the Blade to free people in Galra settlements. It made sense that the two of them would find it easiest to forget their troubles amidst the adrenaline of battle and the glow of victory.

Allura and Coran diverted their focus to speaking with the representatives of these freed people, trying to convince them to join the cause, and Shiro knew they had their work cut out for them now that the paladins were unable to form Voltron. The Lions were impressive, but posturing and evading would only get them so far.

Pidge busied herself with trying to find Matt. Shiro often sat with her as she combed through every last detail she could possibly find in the image they’d grabbed from the prison ship, from tracing the cultural clothing worn by the other aliens to investigating possible explosives used to break Matt out.

It was difficult to watch Pidge break down when she thought she was alone – Shiro ached to reach out and hug her, though he knew Pidge was hardly found of physical contact…but she’d let him hug her before, let him comfort her, and she had seemed thankful. He just wanted to be _useful_ , he wanted to _help_ , but all he could ever do was watch and let everyone’s emotions flow over him like water across a pane of glass, droplets of their sorrow clinging to him long after they had moved on.

This was most difficult with Keith. Keith didn’t move on. Keith kept looking for him. Shiro didn’t have a good grasp of how much time had passed, but it had to be a couple months at least, and still Keith searched. He’d leave the Castle for cycles at a time, the bags under his eyes growing darker with each trip. Shiro could not leave the Castle with him – he’d tried, God, had he tried.

The first time Keith had left, Shiro had followed him into the hangar, and then into the Red Lion. Had watched Keith settle in the pilot’s seat, head bowed over the controls for a moment, before the lion powered up and started off with a dull roar.

It should have worked. He’d been right there, leaning against the back of the seat, listening to Keith’s quiet commands…and then he hadn’t. Then he’d been back in his room in the Castle, and that time, Shiro did scream.

It was agonizing, waiting for Keith to return, unable to predict when he would be back or _if_ he would be back. Space was dangerous; Keith was reckless, now more than ever. Shiro didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep anymore; but sometimes images would flash through his head like dreams, images of Keith stranded in the middle of a cold, distant asteroid belt; the Red Lion warping and dematerializing as it passed the event horizon of some unseen black hole; and worst of all Keith in the Galra prisons, dressed in gladiator rags, bloodied and beaten and bruised with the light gone from his eyes.

Whenever Keith returned it felt like a small victory. That was, at least, until it didn’t.

Keith’s emotions were torrential; tightly contained when around the others, floodgates bursting open as soon as he was alone. Keith didn’t cry. Shiro was pretty sure everyone else had, at least once, but Keith never shed a tear. Keith’s primary emotion wasn’t sadness – he was angry. Determined. In utter denial. Lance had more colorful adjectives for it.

Shiro had grown familiar with Keith’s nuances over the years; with the small ways he expressed himself that others missed – the warning twitch of his jaw, the uncomfortable dart of his eyes, the restless bounce of his leg, the nervous brush of his bangs. But the rest of the team hadn’t, and Keith knew this; knew they didn’t see the way he hacked furiously at the training droids when no one else was on the deck, knew they didn’t see the way he lay awake night after night with a feverish look in his eyes, knew they didn’t know about the crumpled map he kept under his pillow covered in careful red marks from every unsuccessful search, knew they didn’t realize the depth of his hurt.

But Shiro knew. Shiro saw everything.

He’d known, he supposed, that Keith cared about him a great deal. They had been close at the Garrison. They had been friends. Best friends, even. Keith had been so different then, and yet…at his core he was exactly the same scrappy, stubborn, strange kid he’d always been. But Keith had been a closed book to everyone when he entered the Garrison, a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and maybe that was why Shiro had been so drawn to him. His simulator scores had certainly piqued his interest, of course, but…

But Keith was beautiful. Rough around the edges, wary of others and utterly unused to trusting them, sharper than most would have liked with his words, direct with his actions in a way that unsettled many…and beautiful. And Shiro had taken one look at him in that empty sim room on that late night years ago and known this at once, and had known with just as much certainty that Keith’s beauty was not for him to enjoy.

Shiro had vowed he would not ruin the careful friendship he and Keith had formed together. Keith might see it as a betrayal of trust if Shiro were to confess the way he’d felt towards Keith all this time – he might think Shiro was only friends with him because of the attraction he felt, which was far from the truth.

During the Blade’s trials, Keith had said Shiro was like a brother to him. That had hurt a little, but at the time Shiro had thought, _Brothers, okay, I can work with that._

Except. He still didn’t have very brotherly feelings towards Keith, and Shiro had a feeling he never would.

Especially not when he spent most of his time watching Keith.

It sounded creepy when he put it like that. Shiro tried very hard not to be creepy about it. He never thought to violate any of the other paladins’ boundaries, never snuck in the showers or anything like that. But he felt a strange, instinctive urge to be close to them all, to watch over and protect them like a really lame guardian angel or something. Especially Keith. Sometimes Shiro would be minding his own business, pacing down the halls or watching the stars pass by on the flight deck, only to suddenly find himself whisked away to wherever Keith was.

At first, he’d been utterly bewildered by this. But then Shiro began to see a pattern – he went to Keith whenever Keith was in trouble.

Once he was whisked away to the sparring deck, and found Keith fighting a droid at far too high a level, arms already littered with cuts straight through his suit. Shiro had started forward in alarm, raised his hand, and somehow the droid had fallen like a puppet with cut strings. Keith, breathing hard and soaked in sweat, dropped his sword with a clatter and looked around wildly.

“What the fuck?” he’d snapped, kicking at the lifeless droid. “Start training level eight!”

_No,_ Shiro said, and the droid didn’t move.

Keith threw up his hands. “Great,” he muttered. “Just…fucking great.” He’d given the droid one last halfhearted kick and stormed off to his room.

Another time, Shiro had been watching one late night as Pidge excitedly typed up the newest Matt research when he was carried off to Keith’s bedroom. Everything seemed to be in order as he peered around the dark room…and then Keith made a sound, high-pitched and frightened, and Shiro was at his bedside at once.

Keith was tangled in the sheets, as sweaty as he was while sparring, twisting and screwing up his face though his eyes remained shut. He groaned and it sounded pained, and then he was talking in the unsettling slurred speech of sleep-talkers, saying, “ _No no no no_ ,” over and over again with increasing volume and desperation.

_Keith, shhh, it’s just a dream,_ Shiro said, and reached out to lay a hand upon his shoulder.

That time…that time, it worked. His hand didn’t go through, he felt Keith’s bare skin under his palm and Keith jerked awake, eyes wide and glazed over, a gasp falling from his lips. Shiro didn’t move his hand, and sat beside him on the bed as Keith sat up and put his head in his hands, trying to level out his breathing.

_You’re alright,_ Shiro soothed, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulders. _I’m here._

Keith drew in a few deep, shuddering breaths, and laid back down, curling into a ball on his side. Shiro hesitated, and lay down beside him. This wasn’t weird, he tried to tell himself. They’d shared beds before, often enough at the Garrison, and quite a bit during their first few weeks with Voltron. Brothers shared beds, right? Besides, it wasn’t as if Shiro was here to do anything more than comfort Keith as best he could. Keith couldn’t feel it when Shiro embraced him and tucked Keith’s head under his chin, Shiro was sure he couldn’t; but when Keith fell asleep he slept peacefully through the night for the first time in ages.

He began to stay with Keith while he slept more and more after that. Anything to make the bags under Keith’s eyes slowly fade and the healthy glow to return to his skin. His presence really did seem to help. Keith still sparred too hard and long for his own good, and he still avoided the rest of the team, but…sleep was progress, and it made him less irritable and angry. He began to smile more, laugh, even, and Shiro allowed himself to hope that things were getting better.

*

Shiro couldn’t sleep, but he could sort of…zone out for periods of time. It was easy to slip into a daze when he was curled up on Keith’s bed, counting the breaths that tickled his skin and thinking of happier days. So he didn’t react immediately when Keith started making sounds one night, small and breathy, coupled by slight squirming. At first Shiro thought it was another bad dream, and pressed closer worriedly…only to freeze as he realized it was a _good_ dream. A very good dream, from the looks of it.

Shiro startled away at once, guilty and embarrassed on Keith’s behalf, but Keith was still asleep, still letting out quiet noises and rocking his hips in an uneven rhythm against the bed. Come to think of it, it was a wonder this hadn’t already happened – Keith was a teenage boy with no other outlets for this particular issue, after all. That still didn’t make it okay for Shiro to stay and _watch_.

Keith shifted under the sheets and Shiro couldn’t see anything, thankfully ( _unfortunately_ , his traitorous brain countered), but his sounds were impossible to ignore. Shiro left in a hurry, and didn’t stay with Keith the next night.

To his dismay, Keith emerged that morning with bags under his eyes again.

_He could sleep just fine before I was around to cuddle him in ghost form,_ Shiro thought grumpily. _Hadn’t he?_

He inevitably returned to Keith’s bed the following night.

*

Keith sometimes visited Shiro’s room.

Shiro had been embarrassed then, too, because he’d watched in shocked disbelief as Keith tentatively opened up his closet, snatched a shirt from it, and held it up to his face.

_Oh my god,_ Shiro had said, because really, this was too much.

Brothers, he reminded himself.

Did brothers smell each other’s clothing? Maybe it was a Galra thing. He chalked it up to that. That explanation didn’t stop Shiro from helplessly watching as Keith picked through his closet, running his fingertips over the shirts and jackets he’d acquired during their time in space, and of course his clothes from Earth – the ones Keith had waiting for him in the desert shack. Shiro had never asked Keith why he’d kept his clothes. He wanted to ask, now.

But instead he just watched as Keith stood in front of the mirror and looked thoughtfully at Shiro’s vest before carefully putting it on. Shiro was prepared to laugh, prepared for it to hang comically off his smaller frame, but…but Keith wasn’t so small anymore. He’d filled out, in his shoulders especially, and the vest was loose but not ridiculously so. Shiro’s throat tightened. Ghost throat. Whatever.

“Hm,” Keith said to his reflection, a smile tugging at his lips. He cocked out a hip and flicked his bangs out of his face until only one black section fell over his eyes, an obvious imitation of Shiro’s forelock. “Patience yields focus, Keith,” he said in the most exaggerated, gravelly, fake-serious voice ever. “We gotta think about the _team_.”

_Oh, you little shit,_ Shiro said fondly.

Keith giggled, pulling the vest tighter, closer to his body. Then, slowly, the smile faded.  
“This is what you wanted, huh?” Keith said quietly. He sighed. “Everybody misses you, y’know. But for different reasons, in different ways. For Lance and Hunk, you’re like their hero – Lance said losing you is like Superman dying. Like something that shouldn’t be possible. I know you always liked Wolverine more, though.”

Shiro blinked. Keith remembered that? _He_ barely remembered those days, the two of them lounging on the floor in his Garrison dorm, precious copies of shiny comics littering the floor. They’d found them in an antiques shop – Keith loved antique shops because he loved finding the weird trinkets nobody else wanted. He’d bought a tiny porcelain hippopotamus on that trip, while Shiro had squealed excitedly over the treasure trove of comics he found in a dusty leather chest. Best of all, the store owner had waved a hand and given the comics to him for a buck each, which was incredible considering how old and well-preserved they were.

Keith had never really gotten into comics, but he liked the art. Shiro did remember Keith leaning against him as he flipped through each one, occasionally pointing to a particularly well-drawn frame or murmuring in awe at the vibrant colors.

Keith had named the hippo Logan, Shiro remembered suddenly. _Get it, Takashi? I named him after that wolf guy._

Keith was still talking. “But for Pidge, it’s more personal. You and Matt were so close, and you were like a part of her family, and I guess…I guess it feels like she’s lost another brother.”

Shiro tilted his head. _Doesn’t losing me feel like losing a brother to you, too?_

“Allura’s still in shock, I think. Coran’s doing his best to help her come to terms with it, and she’s strong, she’s lost so many other people, but it’s easier for her to look at it like you disappearing is just a wrench thrown in her plans. Not a real person who’s gone now. She likes to look at things objectively to avoid hurting herself more. I didn’t get that for a while, but…now I’m starting to think she has the right idea.”

Keith unzipped the vest and put it back on its hanger, placing it back in the closet. “I know this isn’t all about me. I don’t want to be selfish, I…I’m trying not to be. But I miss you so much, and, and you _promised_ …you promised you’d come back, Shiro.” He let out an unsteady breath, mouth twisting bitterly. “But you already broke that promise once, so I don’t know why I thought you’d keep it this time. I guess I knew you wouldn’t. I just. I just hoped, so bad.”

_I want to come back to you,_ Shiro whispered, and he couldn’t stop himself from brushing his fingertips across Keith’s cheek. _So, so bad._

Keith shivered, pulled on his own jacket, and left without another word.

*

Keith had been doing so well.

In hindsight, maybe it had just been a matter of time before he snapped – but Shiro had really thought he was coming to terms with his grief, getting better at controlling his anger, accepting the new role he’d have to take on in Shiro’s absence.

All of those hopes shattered when Keith sent Lance sprawling to the ground, the Blue Paladin barely avoiding his increasingly vicious punches, spitting an insult that made Keith snarl and catch Lance’s gut with a sharp jab of his elbow. Lance gasped in pain and Hunk shouted in alarm from the sidelines and Allura stormed into the room with Pidge leading her, storm clouds gathering in her eyes.

“Keith!” she shouted, voice echoing through the space stridently. “Lance! Stop this immediately! You are Paladins of Voltron and you are better than this petty brawling!”

Lance’s fists uncurled but Keith’s stayed raised. “Keith, get off’a me,” Lance grunted, shoving at him.

“Apologize,” Keith growled.

“Wha – seriously, man? It was a joke!” Lance retorted. “Get off!”

“It wasn’t funny!”

“But it’s true!” Lance exclaimed. “Shiro always did go way too easy on you in training; you were a total teacher’s pet! Not my fault you can dish it out but you can’t take it!”

“Lance, that’s not really fair,” Hunk started, cut off by the resounding _bang_ of Keith’s fist hitting the floor next to Lance’s head hard.

Lance flinched, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” he said hurriedly.

Allura yanked Keith off of him. “Keith, apologize to Lance.”

“No!” Keith snapped, shaking her off of him. “Shiro’s still lost in space somewhere and all you guys can do is make stupid jokes!”

“Keith, it’s been three months,” Lance said. “At some point you gotta consider the possibility that maybe he’s –”

“Don’t,” Keith said, paling.

“Maybe he’s dead,” Lance finished.

Keith lunged for him, Allura held him back. “That is _enough_!” Allura thundered.

Abruptly, Keith went limp in her grasp, head hanging down. “Let go of me,” he whispered.

Lance frowned. “Keith, buddy, maybe he’s not, I was just –”

“Let _go_ ,” Keith pleaded, voice breaking, and Allura did. Keith practically ran out of the room.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Lance,” Pidge said when he was gone, her arms folded. “They told me Matt was dead and I never stopped looking, and they were wrong. Shiro could be out there still, and Keith’s gonna keep looking.”

“I get that he’s upset, but it’s ruining the team!” Lance pointed out. “We can’t form Voltron, we can’t even spar together without him getting all aggressive at just the mention of Shiro –”

“Just leave him be,” Allura said, looking pensively after the way Keith had gone. “Anger is a natural part of the grieving process.”

“Seems like the _only_ part of the grieving process for Keith,” Lance muttered.

“Maybe the only part we see,” Allura conceded. “You’re correct that it’s creating a rift in the team, and we cannot have that. But antagonizing Keith will only make this worse.”

“You think it’s a Galra thing?” Hunk asked. “Getting angry instead of sad, I mean.”

“He’s sad,” Pidge said with certainty. “I heard him talking to Shiro the other day, saying how much he missed him, that he better come back, all that stuff. Just because he’s not crying his eyes out doesn’t mean he’s not sad.”

“Plus,” Hunk added, “if you think about it, this is the second time Keith’s lost Shiro.”

“Shit…you’re right,” Lance muttered. “And he really thought Shiro was dead the first time…and then Shiro came back.”

“Only to disappear again,” Allura finished. “It does make sense that Keith would believe he still lives, after Shiro survived the Kerberos incident.”

“What do you believe, Princess?” Lance asked.

Allura hesitated. “I believe we must move on,” she said quietly. “We cannot allow Shiro’s loss to separate us. He may still live, but…he cannot help us now, wherever he is. We must help ourselves, and we cannot wait on Shiro much longer.”

_You’re wrong,_ Shiro said as he started after Keith. _I can help him. I can at least try._

*

He found Keith in the showers. Shiro had steered clear of this area for obvious reasons, but Keith was the only one there now, and even if he tried to leave Shiro was sure he’d be transported back. Keith’s hurt emanated from him like the steam rising from the scalding water, filling the space with humidity and heat. When Shiro cautiously rounded the corner, he saw Keith slumped back against the white tiles, chest rising and falling unevenly, still fully clothed.  
The soaked fabric clung to his body and left little to the imagination…Shiro quickly refocused on Keith’s face.

“ _Teacher’s pet_ ,” Keith hissed into the pounding spray. “He has no fucking idea – he doesn’t know the first thing about…about what you were to me.”

_What was I to you?_ Shiro asked, taking a step closer. He could feel the water, but it was muted, and fell right through him. He was nothing more than a sentient curl of steam, insubstantial as air.

“You fucking bastard,” Keith snapped, and his mouth fell open with a low, choked noise and Shiro hurried to him, worried he’d somehow hurt himself…only to see that Keith had a hand shoved down his pants and was grinding against his palm harshly, panting at the ceiling. Shiro stared, briefly unable to process the scene before him. “Fuck you,” Keith bit out, squeezing his eyes shut as he squeezed his hardening cock and struggled to unzip his pants. They were tight to begin with, and even tighter now that they were wet, so he only managed to get them halfway down his thighs. It was enough for Shiro to see, though.

Keith was jerking himself off roughly and quickly enough that it had to verge on painful, too much friction, too much heat, but he didn’t stop. He yanked his shirt off with some difficulty, back arching up against the wall and hips pushing into his tight fist. Shiro gawked as Keith touched his nipples, pinched and rolled them until he was gasping and cursing and flushed red all over his chest, the pink head of his cock pushing up through his fingers, his sounds both pained and pleasured as they fell from his lips.

Shiro ripped his gaze away, ripped himself away. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid hearing the sound Keith made as he came, a wordless snarled sob that echoed unbearably loud.

Keith seemed tired when he joined the rest of the team for dinner. They treated him like a scared animal, using soft voices and gentle touches, and Keith accepted the treatment without a fight. The rest of the team smiled hopefully and pretended like everything was back to normal. Keith was good enough at pretending.

Only Shiro noticed that he barely touched his food.

*

The Black Lion chose Keith. Shiro knew it would, had been prepared for the flickering purple glow as the controls responded to his gloved hands and reluctant voice; but he had not been prepared for Keith’s reaction.

He hadn’t thrown a fit. He hadn’t cried. He hadn’t shunned the responsibility, or panicked, or run off.

Instead, he’d just slumped back in the seat, resigned, miserable, and whispered, “Please, no.”

Shiro had watched every other paladin try their luck at activating the Black Lion. He’d watched and laughed as Pidge struggled to even reach the controls, chuckled and smiled as Hunk pretended to order the others around, watched with silent sorrow as Allura pleaded the lion to respond to her and her father’s legacy, watched with admiration and surprise as Lance stayed in the seat with more concentration, quiet, and stillness than Shiro had thought he was capable of.

But in the end, the new Black Paladin was Keith. It was always meant to be Keith.

The rest of the paladins congratulated him, of course, and then there was the matter of rearranging the other paladins – Red choosing Lance and Blue choosing Allura was a surprise, but Shiro was happy for them, and he enjoyed watching the dynamics of their team shift.

He did not enjoy watching Keith struggle to come to terms with his new position.

And he definitely did not enjoy waiting for all of them to come home.

When they did, Shiro was at once aware that the battle had been difficult and far too close. They were all worse for the wear, and so was the Castle – Shiro had been able to see some of the battle as Coran fired at the Galra ship that had attacked Voltron. It belonged to Prince Lotor – Zarkon’s son, apparently. Every time he’d fired at the lions, Shiro had flinched. And then the lions had disappeared under the crackling atmosphere of the planet Lotor led them to, and Shiro didn’t exactly have breath to hold anymore, but he’d sighed in relief when Voltron emerged from the swarm of Galra ships, blowing them to smithereens.

As the lions returned and the Castle took off for deep space once more, Shiro was distracted from his concern for the paladins by a flash of color outside. When he squinted, he saw another ship – small and shabby, with no Galra markings or any discernible symbols at all. The Castle moved so fast that it was gone before he could see much else, but for some reason it niggled at the back of his mind uneasily.

The ship was forgotten, however, when Keith escaped the celebratory paladin huddle and staggered his way down the hall to his room. His hands trembled violently as they pressed to the scanner and he hastily locked the door behind him when he was safely inside. Shiro followed him, checking him for injuries and finding nothing but a few scrapes and bruises as Keith tugged off his armor and outerwear, leaving him in the black under suit. Normally Shiro might have admired how it defined every curve and muscle on his lean body, but he was too concerned to be ogling.

Keith stripped off the under suit like it was smothering him, breathing fast and shallow, hair sticking to his skin with sweat. Shiro’s eyes widened – was he having a panic attack? What had happened out there?!

Keith sat on the edge of his bed in only his boxers, still breathing unevenly, putting his head in his shaking hands. Shiro sat beside him, putting his arm around Keith’s shoulders and whispering, _You’re okay, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay._

“I’m so,” Keith hiccupped, “so fucking _bad_ at this, fuck!”

_Shhh, no, you’re just new to this,_ Shiro soothed. _You just have to learn from your mistakes._

“We fell right into his trap; stupid, stupid, stupid, I’m so stupid! You never would’ve fallen for something like that, but I, I was just so focused on Lotor, not the rest of the team – I could’ve gotten them killed, or captured, or…” Keith ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “I can’t let that happen again. I’ve gotta keep this team together until you come back, I get that now, but I’m afraid, Shiro, and I know they are too. Why should they follow me? Why should they trust me? They have more reasons for me to not be their leader than anything else!’

_That’s not true,_ Shiro murmured. _You could be a great leader, Keith, just a different one._

“Is it too much to ask for just…a sign? Something, anything, just tell me that you’re okay, Shiro.” He opened his eyes and looked desperately up at the ceiling. “Just tell me he’s okay!”

_I’m okay,_ Shiro said, hugging Keith as tightly as he dared. _I won’t leave you again. I didn’t break my promise. I’m sorry._

“Please just let him be okay,” Keith whispered, falling back down onto his bed with a small, defeated thump.

Keith closed his eyes and was still for a while, save for his measured breaths and twitchy fingers. Shiro stayed on the edge of his bed, looking down at him, wondering if he was falling asleep. It was unlike Keith to take naps, but he sure seemed like he needed one. Shiro thought about a lullaby his mom had sung to him as a child. He couldn’t remember all the words, but the tune was clear, and he hummed it absentmindedly as Keith’s breathing evened out. Something about fawns and foxes and the moon…

But Keith wasn’t falling asleep. His hand drifted down his bare chest, down the line of hair beneath his bellybutton – had it always been so thick and dark? – and further. Shiro looked away resolutely. Keith started making sounds, and the bed shifted as he sat up against the wall and spread his legs further apart.

Shiro was so close. He could feel the heat coming off of Keith’s skin.

He should not have been watching this. He absolutely should not have been watching this.

But Shiro found himself turning back to face Keith as he wrapped a trembling hand around his swollen cock, tipped his head back to the ceiling, and moaned. There was something melancholic in the sound, something a little hollow, and Keith’s teeth dug into his full lower lip to stop himself from making it again. Shiro didn’t know if he technically had a heart anymore, but it hurt like he did. He never thought voyeurism would make him so emotional – one more fucked up thing about him to add to the long, long list. Most of which involved Keith.

Keith leaned back against the wall and kept stroking at his cock, slow and uneven, distracted, like he wasn’t really trying. His eyes were dark and unfocused, lashes fluttering slightly as he rubbed his thumb up and over the head, smearing wet across dry skin, a tiny sound leaping from his throat like a sob.

There was something wrong about this, this time. This wasn’t like the other times, when Keith sleepily brought himself release under the sheets or angrily did so after the sparring, quick and too-rough. Those were mindless. This was something more. Keith was thinking, in fact he was lost in thought, and this was not about completion or relief or even pleasure.

Shiro didn’t know what it was about. Didn’t know, until Keith squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, so soft he almost missed it, “ _Shiro._ ”

Shiro froze. Thought he might sway on his feet, brace himself against the wall, if he were really standing rather than just sort of drifting. Because. What? _What?_

“Shiro,” Keith repeated, louder, still a whisper but unmistakable now. His hand twisted on his cock and his hips lifted from the bed and there were _tears_ gathering in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away furiously but it was too late, they were already falling, trickling down his cheeks. He kept touching himself, kept saying Shiro’s name like a prayer, and then, once, “Takashi,” and Shiro moved forward without even thinking.

Keith stopped. Opened his eyes, lifted his head…and looked directly at him. His eyes were wide, confused, and his lips parted as he tilted his head. “Takashi?” he asked, tentative.

_Yes,_ Shiro said, desperate, though he knew Keith couldn’t hear him. _Yes, I’m here, I’m right here!_

But Keith shook his head, shoulders slumping. “Stupid,” he mumbled. “Stupid, but it felt like…it felt like you were there. God, I wish you were here. I’d…I’d give anything, fucking _anything_ to just…to just hear the sound of your voice again. I’d give anything to be able to look into your eyes and, and tell you how I feel, how I’ve always felt about you, _fuck_ , I love you, _I love you, Shiro,_ so goddamn much.” Keith bowed his head. Shiro’s world imploded. “I always will, even if you’re gone now.”

_I’m not,_ Shiro gasped, coming closer, reaching out. _I’m right here, I love you too, Keith, please._

Keith looked up again, brow furrowing. “I must be losing my mind,” he mumbled weakly.

Shiro touched his face. _I love you,_ he repeated, helpless.

“Shiro,” Keith said, lashes fluttering, hand twisting on his cock. “I wish you could touch me, I wish I could touch you – just once.”

_You are touching me,_ Shiro said, pressing what was left of himself up against Keith’s side. _I am touching you._

And he put his hand over Keith’s, fingers dragging across the warm length of Keith’s cock, and he wasn’t so sure Keith couldn’t feel it anymore because he moaned louder, and his breath left his lips in a cloud of white mist, and…wait, what? That was new.

“Cold,” Keith gasped, “what – why is it so –” But he didn’t stop. His skin broke out in goosebumps and he was shivering but he kept going, breath coming faster, rougher, hair falling into his face.

Encouraged, Shiro curled his other hand gently around Keith’s neck, stroking across his throat and collarbones, and Keith writhed on the bed, fucking his own fist and whimpering, trying to stifle his sounds with a palm over his mouth.

_No,_ Shiro said against his ear, lips brushing the shell and making Keith jolt. _Let me hear you._

Keith made no sign that he’d heard a ghost speaking to him, but he uncovered his mouth. Shiro littered kisses over Keith’s shoulder gratefully and Keith’s hips stuttered in their rhythm and he was still saying Shiro’s name; and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, especially when Keith threw back his head and moaned it as he came in a burst of shocking heat over himself.

_Beautiful,_ Shiro cooed, nuzzling his face into Keith’s neck. _You are so beautiful._

Keith lay there looking mildly stunned. The air was still cool, but his breath was no longer visible. “That…was kind of weird,” he said slowly as he rose from the bed. He cleaned himself off with a dirty shirt, which was gross, but Shiro still loved him. Keith got dressed and all Shiro could do was hover at his side making heart eyes.

_He loves me, he loves me, he loves me._

Later, with Shiro still trailing after him like an adoring puppy, Keith asked Coran if there’d been an issue with the thermostat.

“What?” Coran shook his head quizzically. “No, Keith, the entire ship’s temperature is regulated by the same system, and it hasn’t malfunctioned in deca-phoebs. Why do you ask?”

Keith shifted awkwardly. “Well, it’s just…my room was really cold for a few minutes, earlier.”

“How cold?”

“Uh…like winter, I guess? I could see my breath. And…”

“And?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but I swear, I found ice fragments on my sheets. Like frost.”

Coran’s eyebrows went up to his hairline. “How odd! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Right,” Keith said, backing away. “Just, um, thought I’d ask.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you doing when this sudden freeze occurred?”

“Oh, y’know,” Keith stammered, “just, um, chilling.”

“Chilling,” Coran repeated flatly.

Keith eyed him nervously. “Erm…yes?”

Coran grinned. “I understand, it was a joke! Chilling! Earth slang for ‘relaxing,’ yes? Very clever pun, Keith, I’m glad you’re finally loosening up a little! You should tell the others that one, it’s quite good.”

“Uh-huh,” Keith said. “Thanks. A lot. I’m just gonna. Go. Bye.”

_I love you,_ Shiro sighed dreamily, drifting after him, and didn’t notice the frost crackling along the walls in his wake.

Coran did, though, and almost fell out of his chair.

*

For one glorious week afterwards, Shiro was happy.

Or at least as happy as he could be, all things considered. And he was pretty sure Keith was happier, too. Obviously Keith was still unaware of the fact that he’d been groped by a ghost, but…he had started to notice something was up, especially regarding the temperature changes.

And he didn’t seem unsettled by it – on the contrary, he was intrigued, and Shiro realized something had shifted in his new form since Keith had confessed his feelings. He was stronger, for lack of a better word; not corporeal by any means, but able to make his presence known in ways he’d been unable to do before.

Not only could he make the air cold, he could make it warmer after some practice and a lot of energy – he’d discovered this ability while snuggling with Keith, and when Keith made a sleepy, content sound when Shiro turned into a blanket of warmth around him, he did it every night afterwards. Keith’s peaceful expression as he awoke each morning was all the reward he needed for the hours of frustrating failed attempts.

Coran was baffled by the fluctuating temperatures around the Castle. Shiro tended to bring a slight chill at the very least into every room he entered, which was usually every room Keith entered. Coran started giving Keith suspicious looks, but Keith was oblivious.

“Space is cold,” was all Keith said when Coran pressed him further about it. “It makes sense that some parts of the Castle could get cold, too, just by proximity.”

“Are you sayin’ we’re gonna freeze to death?” Lance exclaimed. He had absolutely no tolerance for the cold and had taken to carrying a blanket and his Blue Lion slippers around the Castle with him. Or just staying near Hunk, who was basically a living space heater.

“It doesn’t really make sense,” Pidge pointed out. “There’s nothing wrong with the ship’s thermostat, it’s set at a constant 75 degrees, but I’ve gotten temperature readings of 40 and below in certain hallways. Sometimes it gets really chilly when I’m researching late at night, too – I’ve found frost on the walls!”

Shiro still liked to watch her continue the search for Matt…he hadn’t realized he was leaving ice behind, though. Oops.

“What if it’s a ghost?” Hunk blurted. Everybody groaned.

Shiro grinned to himself from where he was resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder. Keith never seemed to mind the chill. It was like they were meant to be.

“Oh, ha ha,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes. “No, there’s definitely gotta be a reasonable, scientific explanation for this weirdness. There always is.”

“I mean, who knows, there could be ghosts,” Lance said. “We _were_ just in an alternate reality where Shiro was a Norwegian dude named Sven, anything’s possible.”

Shiro looked at Keith, bewildered. Keith was smiling slightly. “I hope Sven found that space hospital,” he said.

“Slav said there was an 88.6% chance he’d be totally fine in that reality,” Pidge added. “I wouldn’t worry.”

“I never thanked him properly,” Lance said, miming wiping a tear from his eye. “Sven, my hero.”

“I hope Shiro comes back, just so we can tell him about Sven and Slav fighting crime together,” Hunk laughed.

To everyone’s surprise, Keith laughed, too. “Yeah,” he said. “I hope so. He’d like that.”

“As long as Slav stays in a reality far, far away from him,” Lance added. Keith’s smile widened.

And for a moment, Shiro thought everything might be okay.

*

And then Keith found _him_.

Keith had left for a brief supply run with the Black Lion, but returned with more than just supplies – he shouted for the others to come quickly as he disembarked in the holding bay and hurried into the Castle. Shiro went to see what all the fuss was about…and froze. Literally – ice prickled over the walls on either side of him and across the floor where he stood.

“He came back,” Keith said, breathless, “Shiro came back.”

He was supporting someone who could barely stand; their long, ragged black hair hanging into their face, streaked white exactly where Shiro’s forelock was, and their build was bulkier than his own, their clothing some kind of orange and black flight suit. The other paladins gathered around them. Shiro stayed where he was.

That wasn’t him.

_It_ wasn’t him, couldn’t be him, but as the imposter lifted his head with effort, Shiro saw with a kind of detached horror that this thing looked exactly like him. Down to the scar across his nose, the Galra arm, and the way his face looked after a month or two without a razor – it was like looking into a mirror. Yet…it was not at all like that, because this thing was not a reflection, it was a living, breathing being, and it had one muscular arm draped over Keith’s shoulders.

“Oh, dear!” Allura exclaimed, covering her mouth with a hand. “He looks awful. Shiro, do you need a healing pod, you must be at least dehydrated –”

“No, Princess, I’m alright,” it said, and Shiro recoiled violently – it was _his voice_ , but there was something so horribly _off_ about it. Something in the inflection, the word choice, the neutral tilt of its lips as it spoke. “I just…just need some rest. Food and water would be nice, too.” It cracked a smile, and that was wrong, too, but the other paladins laughed weakly and accepted it.

_They were letting it in._

Shiro could do nothing, nothing but watch, as Keith slowly helped the imposter to his room, to _Shiro’s room_. Hunk and Coran hurried off to make some food, Lance went to get water, and Allura allowed herself a sigh of absolute relief as she headed back to the flight deck.

Pidge stayed behind, and stared at the furious fractals of frost Shiro had left behind.

Shiro was too busy chasing after Keith and the imposter to notice. He followed them into the bedroom, and watched from his corner with gritted teeth as Keith offered to help it out of the flight suit. It nodded gratefully, and he _hated_ how convincing it made his expressions look, hated it even more when it made Keith smile and let him unbuckle the suit from its body.

It had all his scars. Somehow. Shiro watched in utter disbelief as the suit came off, leaving it in a loose white tank and dark sweatpants; watched as Keith guided it over to his bed. It went down heavily, and Keith tucked the sheets around its body before taking a step back, looking at it like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

_Don’t believe it, Keith. Don’t trust it. It’s not me._

“What happened?” Keith asked after a moment of silence.

It shook its head, looking intently at the sheets. “I don’t know…”

Shiro could barely focus on the words they exchanged, panic and anger and overwhelming fear warring in his mind. _How?_ How was this possible? What did this thing want, what was its purpose here? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“…then, just nothing. I woke up and I was back on a Galra ship.” It frowned.

Shiro bristled. Of fucking course the Galra were behind this. And then a sudden, terrible thought crossed his mind – his arm. _The Galra still had his arm._ Which meant they had his DNA, his bone marrow, his stem cells – everything that made him, him. Almost. Because while this thing was his clone, and must have been outfitted with just enough memories to fool the paladins, there was still a difference, one that went beyond appearance and memory.

He could only hope that Keith would be able to see it. And if not…well, Shiro would have to figure out a way to take matters into his own hands, incorporeal as they were.

Finally, Keith turned to leave, and Shiro was about to usher him out when the clone called, “Keith?”

Keith looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“How many times are you gonna have to save me before this is over?”

Shiro glared daggers. But Keith gave it a small, sweet smile and said, “As many times as it takes.”

If the door had not shut right then, Shiro would have tried to punch the clone for the smug smile it gave Keith in return. Wouldn’t have worked, but he deserved a solid A for effort, right?

Keith hesitated outside the door. “He’s back,” he said to himself, voice colored with incredulity. “He’s…he’s different, but…he’s back.”

_Yes, it’s different, because it’s not me!_ Shiro cried.

But Keith just looked up at the ceiling, smiled again, and said, “Thank you,” before walking off to join the others.

*

Shiro had hoped the clone might die of its injuries and exposure to the elements. He’d done his best to boil every pitcher of water Lance brought and make all the food freezing to the point of inedibility, but the clone didn’t seem to care. Shiro had begun to seriously doubt it was even human by the time it “healed.”

That ship he’d seen after the paladins’ fight with Lotor was the clone’s ship; he’d seen it in the cargo bay…which meant the clone had been in space for an entire week without food or water. Humans just couldn’t survive that, and even if a human somehow managed to they’d be much worse for wear than the clone was.

It was back on its feet in a few days, and as if the situation wasn’t bad enough it had given itself a terrible haircut. It was too short, too boyish, as if to make itself look more innocent to the others. The perfect Trojan horse. Shiro wasn’t falling for it. It had given him zero reasons to be trusted so far.

And then it had the _nerve_ to try to pilot the Black Lion.

She didn’t accept the fake Shiro, of course she didn’t, but the clone actually seemed confused and upset about the rejection. Shiro wondered if it knew what it was, or if it had actually fooled _itself_ with the planted memories. Either way…it was still a weapon. Shiro had watched it muttering to itself in his room, rubbing its temple and saying something that sounded like “Operation Kuron.”

That was the nail in the coffin – kuron meant clone in Japanese. It was a fitting name for the imposter.

But everyone else continued to call Kuron by _his_ name. They continued to take orders from him, too, even when they were so clearly not in the paladins’ best interests – Shiro had watched helplessly as Kuron interrupted Keith’s orders to the team over the comms and told him he’d have to lower Voltron’s shields and deal with the consequences.

Keith’s expression had been hurt and confused, but he’d obeyed, and the sounds of the paladins’ agonized cries as they were hit by Acxa’s blasts made Shiro want to strangle some sense into Kuron. As it was, the cockpit windows crackled with frost and icicles formed on the control panels. The cold intensified when, thanks to Keith’s quick thinking, Voltron dodged, the next blast hit the teleduv, and Kuron watched impassively as Lotor escaped.

“We really must fix this thermostat issue!” Coran exclaimed, breathing into his cupped hands to warm them up.

Allura’s voice came over the comms, sounding weaker than usual. “Coran, is everything alright?”

“Yes, just another strange temperature f-fluctuation, it’s f-freezing!” Coran stuttered. He looked to Kuron, who had his arms crossed, but wasn’t shivering in the slightest. “Aren’t you cold, Shiro?”

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly,” Kuron said belatedly. Shiro narrowed his eyes. _You liar, you can barely feel it._

“What about you, Princess?” Coran asked urgently. “You all took a pretty hard hit, there!”

“For once, I think we should’ve gone with Keith’s plan instead,” Lance grumbled. “That _hurt_.”

“It was a necessary cost,” Kuron said.

“Yeah, sure, but Lotor got away!” Hunk said. “Who knows when we’ll have another chance to get him? Unless you put a tracker on him again, Keith?”

“No,” Keith said, sounding tired and strained. Shiro’s heart ached for him. “I didn’t.”

“That’s alright,” Allura said. “Let’s just get back to the ship and give ourselves some much-needed rest.”

Lance gasped. “ _Allura_ , telling us to _rest_?! What’s the world coming to?”

She sighed. “I’m beginning to understand exactly how exhausting it can be to be a Paladin of Voltron. Besides, we did the best job that we could here; we deserve a break right now.”

“Agreed. Let’s go,” Keith said shortly.

*

Kuron apologized to Keith afterwards. He was genuine enough in his presentation, but Shiro knew he didn’t really think he was in the wrong. He was just trying to get Keith to soften up to him.

It wasn’t working.

Even when he put his hand on Keith’s shoulder, something Shiro had done often in the past, Keith didn’t look at him. Kuron sighed. “Keith, what’s wrong?”

“You let us…” Keith frowned, turning away. “You told me to lower the shields. You knew we’d get hurt. Why would you do that?”

_Yes, Keith,_ Shiro hissed, circling around them anxiously. _You know I’d never put you and the team at risk, never._

Kuron faltered. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt –”

“Yeah, well, we did,” Keith muttered. “Lance sprained a rib, Pidge has a black eye, and all of us are gonna be feeling it for a couple days. Look, I…” He glanced up at Kuron. “I get that you’ve been away from the team for a while. Maybe you should step down from giving orders, at least for a while.”

Kuron’s brow creased. “Is this about the Black Lion not accepting me?”

_No!_ Shiro snarled. _It’s about you being_ not me _, you absolute asshat!_

Keith shook his head. “It’s about you taking some time to recover and get back into the swing of things, Shiro. So, as current Black Paladin, I’m temporarily rescinding your position as Black Paladin.”

_That’s my boy,_ Shiro said proudly.

“Rescinding?” Kuron echoed, brows drawing together. “Are you firing me, Keith?” He was joking, but Keith didn’t smile.

“Sure, if you want to call it that,” Keith retorted. “You’re the one who wanted me to be the leader, remember?”

“I…” Kuron bit his lip. “I remember.”

Keith sighed. “It…it hasn’t been easy without you, you know? But the team has changed while you’ve been gone, and it’ll have to change again before things can go back to how they used to be.”

“And the Black Lion has to accept me,” Kuron added. “Unless your bond with it is stronger than mine – do you think that’s possible?”

Keith’s face said, _I hope the fuck not._ “Maybe,” he muttered. “Or maybe you just need some more rest and…time.”

After a pause, Kuron nodded, and to Shiro’s alarm he squeezed Keith’s shoulder, voice far too soft and flirty when he said, “Thanks for looking out for me, Keith. I missed that. I missed you.”

Keith blinked at him, mouth twisting in something like confusion. “I…missed you too, Shiro.”

Kuron smiled at him, and opened his mouth to say another infuriating thing when Lance, bless him, strode in.

“Hey, Keith, the Princess wanted me to tell you that –” Lance stopped in his tracks as Kuron hastily snatched his hand away from Keith’s shoulder. “Uh – sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“Nothing,” Keith said, too quick and too loud, moving away from Kuron and towards him. “What were you going to say?”

Lance’s uncertain gaze flickered from Keith to Kuron and back again. “Um…on second thought, Keith, you better come with me, it’s kinda…private.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, but he followed after saying goodbye to Kuron. Shiro watched Lance with interest – did he have an inkling that something was wrong, too?

Shiro followed them down the hall, and was surprised when Lance pulled Keith into a spare room, expression serious.

“Lance?” Keith asked, eyes wide.

“What the hell is up with Shiro?” Lance demanded. “You had to have noticed how weird he’s been acting – he totally interrupted your orders in the middle of the battle, Shiro never does that.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Keith said, frowning. “I told him I think he needs some more time to recover and that I’m the Black Paladin until he gets back to normal…”

Lance shook his head. “I dunno,” he muttered. “He keeps complaining he has a massive headache, too.”

“And?” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Everyone gets headaches. Shiro has plenty to be stressed about.”

Lance sighed. “Maybe it’s nothing. Just weird. I guess I just…imagined the whole reunion differently.”

Keith nodded. “I thought he’d come back and still be the leader he always was.”

“But the Black Lion rejected him,” Lance said, looking at Keith thoughtfully. “Why d’you think it did that? Shiro and his lion have a really close bond, or at least I thought they did.”

“I thought so too,” Keith said. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see, okay?”

“Okay,” Lance said, but he was still frowning.

*

If being a ghost had been frustrating before, now it was straight-up torture.

But at least now Shiro could do more than make everybody cold. He learned that when Kuron leaned dangerously close to Keith during breakfast under the ruse of reaching across the table for some juice – all Shiro saw was Kuron’s lips curling into a smile and Keith leaning back in his seat with an expression of perplexed discomfort. That was all he needed to see – the next moment, the pitcher of juice tipped over and spilled all over Kuron. Not a single drop got on Keith.

Shiro brooded from behind Keith’s chair, and as everyone exclaimed about the mess and scurried to find napkins, he thought, _Now this…this I can work with._

It was difficult to use these new powers, as they seemed to only manifest when Kuron got too close to Keith. Unfortunately, that happened quite a lot. And so Shiro’s reactions began to escalate. Kuron whispered into Keith’s ear, Keith flinched away, and Shiro knocked Kuron’s coffee off the table. Kuron joined one of Keith’s solo sparring sessions without an invitation, and Shiro sent the training droid into overdrive and sent Kuron to the med bay while Keith watched in open-mouthed bewilderment. Kuron touched Keith’s thigh while everyone was hanging out in the commons area, and Shiro created a tiny electrical storm – every light began to flash and flicker violently, and the lamp closest to Kuron burnt out with a shower of sparks.

Hunk cowered under his chair. “The Castle is haunted again!” he squawked. “I told you guys, I told you!”

Keith was able to slip away from Kuron’s wandering hands and plant himself safely beside Lance in the ensuing chaos as the ship experienced a temporary blackout.

Lance noticed that the incidents seemed to happen wherever Keith was, and joked about Keith being a Druid or something. Keith was getting a little freaked out, but it was better than Kuron pawing all over him. Shiro would apologize later.

Pidge became less convinced that there was a scientific explanation for the incidents after five plates flew out of a cabinet Kuron was opening, narrowly missed nailing him in the face, and shattered spectacularly on the far wall. In fact, she was so unconvinced that she bought what looked like a space Ouija board.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Lance said as soon as he saw it. “No, nuh-uh, get that white people horror movie shit away from me.”

Hunk just whimpered and went to his room.

“Keith, Shiro?” Pidge said, raising an eyebrow.

Keith sighed and sat down with her in front of the board. Allura and Coran curiously watched from a distance. Kuron sat next to Keith. Shiro flickered the lights on and off in warning.

“If you guys get possessed, I told you so!” Lance called from down the hall.

Shiro tilted his head. He hadn’t even considered that option. He didn’t actually know if it was an option…but come to think of it, if he could possess someone, he could tell everyone that Kuron was a fake, and that he’d been here all along…

Shiro shook himself, frowning deeply. No. No, he wouldn’t do such a thing to any of the paladins…this whole ghost thing was driving him crazy. He would have to figure out another way, one that did not involve hurting anyone. Except maybe Kuron, though Shiro had a sneaking suspicion he’d been made to be virtually indestructible.

Shiro waited impatiently as Pidge went through the whole “open the board” ritual which was, as far as Shiro could discern, completely unnecessary and arbitrary. He could knock over the board right now if he wanted to. But he liked Pidge; Pidge was not the one he wanted to scare, here. So he glowered at Kuron as Pidge went through the motions and hoped Kuron could feel his displeasure from whatever hellish plane of existence he was stuck on.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Pidge started, looking around the room. Pidge, Keith, and Kuron had their fingers on the planchette. Shiro leaned closer and glared harder at Kuron’s fingers where they brushed Keith’s. “Is anyone here?”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro nudged the planchette towards YES.

Keith gasped. “Did you guys do that?”

“No,” Kuron said warily. His eyes darted to Shiro’s corner.

Pidge bit her lip. “Okay…do you want to hurt us?”

“Pidge, why the fuck would you ask that,” Keith hissed.

The planchette moved to NO.

As it did, though, Shiro wiggled a splinter free from the planchette and drove it sharply into Kuron’s fingertip. He gritted his teeth and snatched his fingers away. “Shiro? What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Kuron stared at the blood beading up from his finger. “Got a splinter,” he said.

“Don’t get the blood on the board,” Pidge warned. “Probably a bad idea.”

Keith frowned at the board. “What do you want, if you don’t want to hurt us?”

Shiro considered how to respond. A few seconds later, he spelled out, _KEEP U SAFE_.

Keith blinked. “Keep _me_ safe?”

YES.

Keith’s eyes widened. Kuron shifted uneasily. Pidge gave Keith a sidelong look. “Why do you want to keep…no, let me rephrase that, _what_ do you want to keep Keith safe from?”

Kuron chuckled nervously. “Pidge, c’mon, don’t you think this is a little silly –”

_KURON._

“Kuron,” Keith repeated. “Well, great, that doesn’t mean anything to me. Pidge?”

Kuron’s eyes were huge. He was sweating. Shiro paced around the room in a cold breeze, ruffling the paladins’ hair. “What does Kuron mean?” Pidge asked.

_CLONE,_ Shiro spelled out quickly.

Keith went still, his breath catching. Pidge furrowed her brow. “A clone? Of who?”

_ME._

“And who are you?” Keith asked, voice barely a whisper. He knew, he knew, he had to know.

“Keith, I don’t like this, we shouldn’t be messing with ghosts,” Kuron pleaded, reaching out and grabbing Keith’s wrist. Shiro reacted instinctively, sending a gust of wind into Kuron and knocking over the board, sending Pidge and Keith scrambling back.

“We didn’t close the board!” Pidge yelped.

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith said, standing up abruptly, folding his arms tightly to hide the shaking of his hands. He hurried out of the room. Shiro followed him, whispering _Keith, Keith, Keith_ like a broken record, wondering how long it would take before he lost his mind entirely to the possessiveness he felt for the boy before him. Would he become one of those vengeful, inhuman spirits stuck in the past, obsessed with what they could no longer have, unable to move on?

_Don’t let that happen to me,_ Shiro begged. _Please don’t let that happen to me, Keith._

*

Keith looked so soft when he was asleep.

Shiro admired the dark flutter of his long lashes, the graceful tilt of his nose, the pink curve of his parted lips. But the softness was an illusion of vulnerability – Keith’s chest was bare and clearly muscled as it rose and fell, the scar on his right shoulder standing out starkly, and as always Keith had his knife tucked under the corner of his mattress. Shiro would never understand how the world could create someone as beautiful and strong and talented as Keith Kogane only to hurt him so much.

Keith’s bedroom door opened.

Shiro bolted upright, fear settling coldly within him as Kuron slipped in, closing the door behind him. He’d must have hacked the scanner somehow…no, Shiro realized with horror, he hadn’t.

Keith had allowed Shiro access to his room long ago…and Kuron had Shiro’s handprint.

His horror only grew as Kuron activated the Galra arm. Its sickly purple glow lit up the room with harsh angles and long shadows, and Keith, light sleeper that he was, stirred on the bed. Kuron went still, the arm humming with energy. _No,_ Shiro snarled, _don’t you dare, don’t touch him, don’t hurt him!_

Kuron waited, or hesitated, Shiro didn’t know which. Whatever the reason, it gave Keith enough time to awake fully, sitting up and blinking at Kuron with bleary eyes. “Shiro?” he whispered.

Kuron stepped forward, aiming the arm at him. Keith’s eyes widened, stunned.

And then he said, with perfect clarity, “You’re not him.”

Kuron fired. Shiro slammed into him with as much force as he could muster, sending him stumbling to the side, the blast missing Keith by mere inches.

“Guys, wake up!” Keith shouted, half-falling out of bed, grabbing his knife and rolling out of the way of another blast to hit the scanner and open the doors. “Help, _now_!”

The lights in Keith’s room went haywire as Shiro tried and failed to grapple against Kuron. The arm was still firing with deafening explosions, blackening the walls and nearly singing Keith’s hair as he narrowly dodged again, standing in the doorway with his blade raised. He opened his mouth to call for help a second time, cry abruptly dying on his lips as Shiro toppled Kuron off-balance, sending him crashing into the far wall. Keith lowered his blade slightly, eyes round and shocked.

“The ghost,” he breathed. “It’s…it’s _you_.”

Kuron’s arm caught Shiro across the shoulder but he didn’t give an inch, pushing him harder against the wall, Kuron’s boots scrabbling on the floor as he struggled. There were shouts from down the hall and Allura ran into the doorway in a nightgown with her bayard, Pidge followed soon after with hers. “Keith!” Allura cried. Then, higher pitched, “ _Shiro?!_ ”

“That’s not Shiro,” Keith gritted out. “ _That_ is.” He pointed as Shiro’s invisible form wrenched Kuron’s arm upwards, aiming it away from Keith and to the ceiling, his shoulder wrenching with it. Kuron let out a strained growl and threw back his other arm to land a punch and Shiro pinned that one, too, holding him fast. The lights were flickering faster, and Hunk, Lance, and Coran arrived just in time to see every single one of them burn out with sputtering pops.

“Who made the ghost angry?!” Lance panted.

“I don’t think it’s angry with us,” Hunk said faintly. “At least, I hope not.”

“Is…is the ghost doing that?” Allura whispered.

“He’s gathering power,” Pidge said. “Holy shit, _look_.”

Shiro _was_ gathering power, absorbing the electricity without any real intent to do so, just the determination to save Keith, to save all the paladins from Kuron. As the energy flowed into him, he realized he was becoming visible – it outlined him in softly glowing purple and white, his eyes burning yellow as he glared at Kuron. The arm fired again at the ceiling and everyone jumped, eying each other uncertainly.

“What do we do?!” Lance exclaimed. “We can’t get close to him as long as that arm is active!”

“Then we have to deactivate the arm first,” Allura said. “The prosthetic may be detachable, if we can figure out a way to get it off, we can subdue him!”

“Does anyone know how to do that?” Pidge snapped. “Keith?”

“What? No, why would I –”

_There is a series of locking mechanisms at the top of the arm,_ Shiro replied.

Keith paused. “Series of locks at the top of the arm,” he repeated.

“Locks, what kinda locks?” Lance pressed.

Shiro relayed the information to Keith, who nodded and said, “Three switches, one handprint scanner on the underside.”

“Handprint scanner?” Hunk said with dismay. “Fake Shiro’s not gonna detach his own arm if we ask nicely!”

“We’re not gonna ask nicely,” Keith retorted, and darted forward to flick the switches into the off position as Shiro pressed his hand to the scanner. Kuron tried to land a hit on Keith and Shiro ripped the arm off of him, Kuron’s scream echoing through the Castle as the connective cables snapped and the arm went dead. Kuron crumpled to the ground and the others quickly surrounded him with weapons raised as Coran went about binding him, everything illuminated by the ship’s silvery emergency lights.

Keith stood back and looked at Shiro’s glowing silhouette. He dropped his knife and took a tentative step forward. “Shiro?” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

_Keith._ Shiro inclined his head. _It’s me._

Keith’s lower lip trembled. “You were the ghost,” he said.

_Am,_ Shiro corrected gently. _I’m still a ghost._

“Are you dead,” Keith managed, barely a question, more of a plea.

_I don’t know,_ Shiro said. _There was no body, so…_

Keith’s gaze moved pointedly to Kuron as Hunk and Coran dragged him out of the room.

_That’s not my body,_ Shiro said, harsher than he meant. Keith flinched and he sighed. _It’s a clone. The Galra must’ve created it from the arm they took from me…part of something called Operation Kuron._

The others were looking at them questioningly. “Operation Kuron?” Pidge repeated. “So that’s what you meant on the Ouija board.”

_Yes, the clone is Kuron,_ Shiro said, turning towards her. _You can hear me?_

“And see you too, jeez, you went full Danny Phantom, huh?” Lance said.

“I cannot believe it,” Allura whispered. “Shiro…you were trapped on the astral plane.”

“He still looks pretty astral to me,” Lance said.

“Yes, but…none of us could see you or hear you before,” Keith said. “How long…?”

_Since I disappeared,_ Shiro told him. _I have been here. I could not leave the ship, or speak to any of you._

“How did you get onto the astral plane?” Pidge demanded. “How are you visible now, but still not…solid?” Shiro shrugged helplessly.

Allura looked thoughtful. “I believe the Black Lion may have tried to teleport you to safety, but something went wrong,” she said.

_Yeah, you think?_ Shiro snorted.

“You’ve been trying to warn us all this time,” Keith said. “Trying to protect us from Kuron.” _Trying to protect me,_ remained unspoken, but Shiro could see it in his eyes.

_Yes,_ Shiro said.

Pidge folded her arms. “I wonder if we can get you back to normal…you used all that electricity to make yourself visible, do you think you could do something like that again?”

_I…I don’t know,_ Shiro said. He felt dizzy, suddenly, and swayed a little on his feet. He was actually standing, now. Keith started forward and caught his arm to steady him – only to let out a squeak of surprise as his hand went right through. _Sorry,_ Shiro mumbled, eyelids heavy. _I’m…tired…_

“He’s flickering in and out,” Lance said. “We gotta – we gotta get him some more energy, quick!”  
_No,_ Shiro said, hanging his head, _just need to rest._

“C’mon, I got you,” Keith said, and though he didn’t try to grab ahold of Shiro’s arm again he did put a hand on his back, guiding him towards the door. The others parted for him to pass, and Shiro saw something meaningful in Lance’s eyes – something like relief. He gave Shiro a little nod, and Shiro smiled wearily back, hoping his relief was not too short-lived.

Keith walked him to his room in silence. Now and then his fingers would tighten against the intangible fabric of Shiro’s shirt before hastily loosening. Shiro held his tongue even though all he wanted to do was to tell Keith what Keith had unwittingly told him months ago.

Shiro opened the door with his hand on the scanner and Keith drew in a sharp breath as they walked inside.

_What?_ Shiro murmured.

“The scanner,” he said. “That was you – you opened it for me, all those times.”

Shiro blinked at him. _That was me. But…I can calibrate it to open for you now. If you want._

Keith was paler and twitchier than usual. “I,” he said, and stopped, licking his dry lips. “Shiro, how much did you…see?”

The door closed behind them. Shiro sat down on his bed and looked up at Keith. _Enough,_ he said.

“Shiro.”

_I stayed with you every night,_ Shiro admitted. Keith swallowed. _You had difficulty sleeping, and it seemed to help when I remained beside you, so I did._

“In my bed,” Keith said faintly.

_In your bed,_ Shiro confirmed. _And I was there when you visited my room…tried on my clothes…smelled my clothes._ He smiled, but Keith looked mortified and scared, and was digging his own nails into his arms. Shiro’s smile fell and he tilted his head, extending a hand to Keith. _I’m not upset, Keith,_ he said. _I also heard you tell me that you love me. And you know what?_

“W-what,” Keith whispered.

_I said it back to you,_ Shiro said. _I love you too, Keith. I’m sorry you couldn’t hear it all the times I said it before._

Keith covered his mouth, turning slowly scarlet, and took a stumbling step forward. “You…”

_Don’t panic,_ Shiro added, carefully touching Keith’s hand as Keith approached. Keith jerked but didn’t shy away entirely. _Keith. Oh, Keith._

“I love you,” Keith said helplessly, and half-fell onto the bed beside Shiro, sitting beside him and gazing up at him with that soft, sweet wonder that had enchanted Shiro from day one.

_I’m so glad,_ Shiro told him, still touching his skin, because that seemed to strengthen the connection between them. Keith trembled. _I love you so much. I never meant to hurt you. I hate to see you hurt, Keith._

“You didn’t mean to disappear,” Keith said, shaking his head. “I bet you were hurting as much as I was.”

_Yes,_ Shiro said. _But it felt like…I can’t quite explain it, but it felt like I had a purpose, and that purpose was…_ He might as well just say it. _Watching you._ And then, because Keith was turning red again and that didn’t feel quite right, he corrected, _Watching over you._

The red diffused into a delicate pink. Keith looked like he might cry again. “The whole time,” he choked out.

_I’m sorry,_ Shiro said. _I was worried about you. And it just felt…feels like the right thing._

Keith’s mouth twisted, more amused than scared now. “Since when is secretly watching me jerk off ‘the right thing,’ Shiro?”

_Not that, obviously,_ Shiro muttered, ducking his head. _It felt like the right thing to make sure you were safe. To try to guide you. To help you be the leader the team needed._

“The team needs you,” Keith said, voice tinged with desperation. “We need _you_ , Shiro, the real Shiro. I’m not meant to be the Black Paladin. You know that. She didn’t deny Kuron because I have a stronger connection to her than you – she denied him because he’s not you.”

_You can pilot the Black Lion –_

“Because I love you,” Keith snapped. “Because the Black Lion knows we had no other choice! There’s no…no connection like there is with Red. The only connection the Black Lion and I have is through you, Shiro. _You’re_ its pilot, okay, you will always be its pilot, so just – just _come back,_ already!”

_Keith,_ Shiro said sadly. _I don’t know how. The electricity...even that was temporary. Look, it’s already wearing off._ He looked down at his hand, which was more translucent than before, the sparks of violet that kept him visible flickering and dying one by one.

“Try,” Keith urged, shaking his head. “Please just try.”

_I’ve tried,_ Shiro said. _You don’t think I’ve tried?_ He squeezed Keith’s hand and it shouldn’t have done anything, there was no actual pressure exerted upon his skin, but Keith’s fingers curled like there was. _I hate being stuck here,_ he said. _I hate not being able to be there for you and the rest of the team. I hate not knowing what’s happened to me, or if it’s reversible, or if I’ll be trapped here forever – and then the Castle of Lions really will be haunted. By me._

“No, I won’t let that happen,” Keith said firmly, reaching out blindly. Shiro took Keith’s hand in his own and Keith looked surprised. “Wait,” he said. “I can…I can feel your hand.”

Shiro was equally surprised. _It’s solid?_

“No,” Keith said, slowly, uncertainly. “It’s like…a living shadow. Like smoke with substance, I don’t know – but I can feel it, Shiro, I can feel you touching me.”

There was a moment of silence. Shiro grew suddenly, shockingly hot. Everything had been cool and still and dim and suddenly it was warm and bright and alive like the electricity and Keith’s gaze dropped to his sweatpants and then to Shiro’s invisible hand and Shiro felt molten.

_Do you want me,_ Shiro said, voice low and barely audible, _to touch you, Keith?_

Keith’s throat worked. “I –” His expression was somewhere between shocked, wanting, and utterly conflicted.

_This doesn’t have to be complicated,_ Shiro whispered. _This can be simple, right now. You and me. That’s all._

“Can it?” Keith managed, and Shiro climbed up onto the bed and the mattress didn’t dip, the sheets didn’t move, but Keith shuddered when Shiro straddled his thighs and guided him to lie down fully. “Oh – is that – are you –”

_Yes,_ Shiro said against his ear. Keith’s hips jerked up and the sheet shifted.

“I thought you said you were tired,” Keith laughed breathlessly, reaching up to cup Shiro’s face.

_You make me less tired,_ Shiro told him, leaning close to Keith’s neck, breathing him in.

Keith bit his lip hard. “Do…do you think you could take energy from me? Like you did with the lights?”

Shiro stilled, frowned. _Keith, I_ burnt out _the lights._

“Yes, but I think I have more energy than a damn lightbulb, Shiro.”

_Not really that much more,_ Shiro argued. _The human body at rest produces only 100 watts, on average. A lightbulb produces 60. So you’re just about a lightbulb and two thirds._

“Hmph, whatever,” Keith said, jabbing at him with his knee lightly. “You nerd.”

Shiro huffed and blew a raspberry into his neck. Keith jolted, apparently ticklish, giggling and squirming under him, his giggles quickly turning to other sounds when Shiro started sucking his neck instead. He didn’t know what Keith could really feel, because when he lifted his head there was no shine of spit, but there was a bruise blooming where his mouth had been. Shiro pressed his fingers to it and Keith’s breath shallowed, his sweatpants tenting noticeably now under Shiro.

_I won’t burn you out, Keith,_ Shiro murmured, dragging his tongue down to Keith’s collarbones and sliding his hands under – no, not under, _through_ – Keith’s shirt. Keith’s squirming became more desperate, his breathy noises filling the room obscenely. _I remember,_ Shiro hummed, _you like to play with your nipples._

Keith groaned, head falling back against the pillow. “You creep,” he said weakly. It was more of an endearment than an insult.

Shiro let his fingertips warm, enough heat to make Keith whimper when they closed around the soft buds that peaked visibly under his shirt, shifting the fabric to make them chafe just enough to feel good. _You like it,_ Shiro countered, voice low and velvety. Keith shivered. _You like thinking about me watching you touch yourself while saying my name._

“Shiro,” Keith gasped, hips bucking up.

_Like that,_ Shiro purred, hands creeping down to his sweatpants, then pausing on a thought. He pressed his body down to Keith’s instead, grinding down against him. Keith clutched at his hips as Shiro rubbed his ass over Keith’s bulge, chuckling at his flustered expression. _How does that feel?_ he asked, wanting to know, needing to know.

“It’s – oh, fuck, this is weird,” Keith stammered, and Shiro faltered, but Keith shook his head quickly and added, “not bad weird, don’t stop, it’s…there’s pressure. Not like a body, but…it’s you, I can feel you, please let me touch you –”

Shiro curled forwards over his chest, looking into his eyes and rubbing his thumbs in the hollows of Keith’s throat. _Touch me, Keith,_ he said.

Keith did, as best he could, palm drifting over the hazy curve of Shiro’s spine and further, and Shiro felt hands sweeping across his thighs and squeezing his ass, felt Keith’s cock push at him insistently through the soaked fabric, felt Keith’s warmth seeping into him like ink into water, coloring him back into existence. Keith’s grip on him weakened and Shiro brushed his lips over Keith’s shoulder soothingly. _Tell me to stop and I will._

“No,” Keith whispered, breath hot against his ear. “Don’t stop, take it, everything I can give you, Shiro, it’s yours, it’s always been yours.”

_I’ve always been yours,_ Shiro whispered back, and tucked his face into Keith’s neck as Keith moaned and spilled between them, untouched in his sweatpants. He may not have been fully corporeal, but that didn’t seem to matter to Keith, Shiro thought with some amusement and a great deal of relief. Keith made no effort to move out from under him, and with a pang of guilt Shiro realized he was unconscious, lips parted and head lolled to the side. Oops. Shiro doubted he’d have any complaints, though.

_I love you,_ Shiro murmured, smoothing Keith’s hair back from his brow and kissing it. _I’ll be here when you wake up._

*

He was.

*

Kuron had been placed in one of the high-security cells on the ship. Apparently the Castle did have a sort of ‘prison bay,’ which was not a phrase Shiro associated with very good memories. It was nothing like the Galra prisons, though – the cell Kuron had been given was far better than he deserved, as far as Shiro was concerned. It was about six by eight feet with two fully glass walls, though the glass was so thick and sturdy that he could barely be heard through it, and none of his furious pounding with his single remaining fist did any good.

Shiro almost wanted to feel bad for him, to give him the benefit of the doubt – maybe he hadn’t been created to be an inherently evil weapon meant to destroy Voltron from the inside out. Maybe there was some humanity in him after all.

And then he remembered the terror and betrayal in Keith’s eyes illuminated by the harsh glow of the Galra hand, and Shiro’s sympathy went up in flames.

Allura insisted the glass was an asset, since it allowed them to keep an eye on Kuron to make sure he wasn’t trying to escape or attack again. There was a security camera trained on him at all times, though, so Shiro thought it was a little redundant. Still, there was something satisfying about watching him sulk and wallow in pure, miserable boredom.

Meanwhile, Pidge had launched headfirst into what she’d dubbed Operation Shiro. She was lucky Shiro had some patience remaining, because Pidge did quite a lot of poking and prodding and questioning, and it was only when she tried to take a sample of his skin that he had to argue. Eventually she settled on plucking a few hairs, though they fizzled out of existence as soon as she placed them on her microscope slide.

Coran had joined in the effort and was deeply fascinated by it all. “How intriguing! It appears your body is still partly in the astral plane, and no part of it that is removed from you can remain on this plane once detached!”

“Let’s not test that theory further,” Keith said hastily as Pidge got a speculative look in her eye. “He’s already missing an arm, no need to go chopping anything else off.”

Keith had taken to standing behind Shiro’s chair, probably to make sure Pidge didn’t get overzealous. Lance and Hunk were both pretty freaked out by the whole ghost thing and tended to keep their distance and wave weakly at Shiro whenever they scurried past. Shiro didn’t blame them – things were getting weirder by the day.

First, he’d transformed into a walking neon purple skeleton after actually sleeping for the first time in months – he’d been awoken by Keith’s startled screech. That was an understandable reaction to opening one’s eyes only to find your lover had become a bunch of glowing bones. Thankfully that didn’t last long – he’d sucked up some more electricity and gotten some skin, though it was still not solid, and sort of disintegrated into mist wherever Keith touched him.

Pidge had been disappointed by the short-lived skeleton episode. “You looked awesome,” she’d said. “Like a Pirates of the Caribbean zombie mixed with Daft Punk.”

“Can you please focus,” Keith had gritted out, clearly still shaken from the skeleton encounter.

Since then, his eyes had changed from solid yellow to pure silver to his normal human gray, but still tended towards yellow when he was annoyed. His body was solid to a point – it required more energy to keep himself dense enough to touch, and an impossible amount to make himself feel human. His muscled body felt more like a pillow than a rock, and though Keith said it just made him cuddlier it was slightly frustrating. His skin remained a cloudy lavender at its lightest, a deep indigo at its darkest, and always with some level of transparency coupled by starry patterns that shifted over him restlessly.

Pidge and Coran agreed that none of the constellations and galaxies they could see on him were real, or at least not ones they had ever seen. Perhaps future galaxies, then, or past ones…or just worlds of the astral plane’s own making.

“Well, I think we have conclusive evidence that you’re not dead,” Pidge declared after several days of Operation Shiro. Keith exhaled and slumped against Shiro’s chair. “You’re just anchored to the astral plane, still. For some reason.”

_Anchored, what do you mean by that? Something’s stopping me from leaving?_

Coran nodded. “It appears that – and this is just a hypothesis, mind you – the Black Lion may be keeping you there.”

Keith folded his arms. “Why would she do that?! You said she didn’t even mean to bring Shiro there in the first place.”

“Yes, yes, well, the Black Lion may be unable to free him,” Coran sighed. “You must consider that this is the first time in Voltron’s history that the Black Lion has been shared by two living paladins.”

_What about Zarkon?_

“We don’t know if he’s still alive, in fact he may be trapped on the astral plane just as you are,” Coran replied. “So everything’s a bit complicated – perhaps the Black Lion is overwhelmed by all this tangled quintessence.”

“So? What do we do?” Keith asked impatiently. “There has to be a way to…un-anchor Shiro, detangle his quintessence, so we can bring him back fully.”

“Maybe you could do it through the psychic link between Paladin and lion,” Pidge suggested, looking to Coran. “That could work, right?”

Coran pursed his lips. “Maybe…there would have to be a very close connection between the two Paladins, though…their separate links would have to become one.” He cleared his throat. “Such an, er, intimate link is difficult to create with mental exercises alone.”

“What about physical exercises?” Keith blurted.

“You and Shiro are fucking, aren’t you,” Pidge said. Shiro went nearly-transparent and Pidge grinned. “Lance owes me twenty GAC.”

Keith facepalmed. “Can I join you in the astral plane, Shiro? Please? Preferably before Pidge starts interrogating us about the sex.”

Pidge’s eyes bugged out. “Wait, how _do_ you have sex –”

“WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING THIS; YOU ARE _SIXTEEN!_ ” Keith cried.

Lance poked his head around the corner. “Wait, did you say Keith and Shiro are banging? Called it.”

_Yeah, you know what, Keith? Astral plane sounds real good right about now._

“You did not call it!” Pidge retorted. “You said Keith wasn’t into him!”

“Yeah, but that was fake Shiro, so it doesn’t count!”

“Is sex normally a very open topic on Earth?” Coran asked hesitantly, his ears pink.

_No,_ Shiro snorted. _C’mon, Keith, let’s make our escape, I’ll give us some cover._

“Wait, you didn’t answer my question –!” Pidge exclaimed, only for the lab to be plunged into sudden darkness as Shiro short-circuited the lights. “HEY!” There was a loud crash and Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand, both of them hurrying out to safety. Once they were free, Keith started smiling, then laughing, shaking his head as he looked up at Shiro.

_What is it?_

“They know,” Keith said giddily. “The others know about us.”

Shiro cocked his head in concern. _Did you want it to remain a secret?_

“What – no, no, I’m glad, I…” Keith trailed off, searching his eyes. “Did you?”

_Of course not,_ Shiro assured him, drawing Keith close, cradling him against the wall and nuzzling his nose. _I’d tell the whole Universe if I could._

Keith’s eyes brightened. “Heh. ‘I’m the Black Paladin, here to save you from the Galra Empire, and by the way the Red Paladin is my boyfriend and I love him, spread the word!’”

_Boyfriend, huh?_ Shiro smirked. _“My boyfriend the Red Paladin” has a nice ring to it._

“Nicer than ‘defenders of the Universe?’” Keith shot back.

_With you, it’s always nicer,_ Shiro mumbled. He didn’t even really know what he meant by that except that it was sappy as hell, and it made Keith flush, so he figured it was alright.

“So,” Keith said, “about that whole…astral link thing. What do you wanna do?”

_I…do you mean right now?_

“No time like the present, right?” Keith said playfully, but he was nervous, chewing his lip as Shiro looked at him steadily. “I think we should try as soon as possible, I mean, the team really does need you, I need you, and –”

_Shhh,_ Shiro said, stroking Keith’s hair out of his face. _Okay. We can try now._

Keith nodded jerkily. “Okay. Where…how do you want to…”

Shiro was distracted by a screen in the room across the hall – it was the security camera feed for Kuron’s cell. An idea formed in his head, and it was a little crazy, a little fucked up, but also a little perfect. _Do you trust me?_ Shiro asked Keith seriously.

“Yes, of course,” Keith replied. “Why?”

_I think we should pay a certain someone a little visit,_ Shiro said, the stars on his skin shining a little brighter.

*

There had been little to no preamble – Shiro was done waiting. He’d only seen a glimpse of Kuron’s sullen face before getting down to business, and seeing the sullen transform into shocked out of the corner of his eye.

“Sh-shiro,” Keith gasped as Shiro pressed him up against the glass, his face flushed as Shiro tugged off Keith’s shirt and unzipped his pants. “Right – right here? But he’s watching –”

_Exactly,_ Shiro growled, smirking wickedly.

Keith’s eyes widened. “ _Oh._ ”

Kuron glared at them, mouth curled in an ugly snarl, hands pressed flat to the glass. His voice was muffled, but Shiro could tell he was swearing. Good. Let him whine about what he could never have.

Keith’s flush had deepened. Shiro cupped his face and looked into his wide eyes. _Is this okay, baby?_ he asked gently.

Keith swallowed and nodded jerkily, clutching tightly at Shiro’s shoulders. “Yes. What…what are you gonna do?”

_I’m gonna show him that you’re mine,_ Shiro promised, licking over Keith’s neck and delighting in the way he shivered and tipped his head to the side for better access. _That you’ve always been mine._

“Yours,” Keith whispered. Shiro kissed his throat softly. Keith’s hips pressed into his, his breathing uneven. “I’ve – I’ve never –”

_Don’t worry,_ Shiro said, grinding against him, hitching Keith’s legs up around his waist and making Keith’s head thud back against the glass. Kuron swore louder. _I’ve got you, baby. Do you still trust me?_

“Of course,” Keith said, “always – ah! Oh – Takashi, what are you – h-how – mmph!”

Shiro covered his mouth, eyebrows raised. His hand was still semi-transparent and glowing purple, and he could see Keith’s parted lips through it, but it blocked out his sounds well enough. _Shhh. I know it feels good, but you gotta be quiet, Keith. Can you be quiet for me?_

“Mhm,” Keith said, eyes rolling back in his head as Shiro’s other hand stroked tighter and warmer around his cock, still trapped in his underwear. “Ahh…ah, feels like…feels like –”

_What does it feel like, tell me,_ Shiro urged, lifting his palm just enough for Keith to speak clearly.

“Feels like I’m fucking you,” Keith moaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting harder into the heat of Shiro’s shifting, protean hand as it shaped around his cock, and Shiro grinned sharp and cool against his neck because that was exactly what he was going for. He couldn’t give Keith flesh and blood, he couldn’t give Keith human, but he could give Keith _this_ – whatever this was, exactly. Luckily for Shiro, Keith had always been drawn to strange, and as he flared a brighter purple with every bite he left on Keith’s skin, Shiro doubted it could get much stranger than this.

_Do you want to fuck me?_ Shiro crooned, removing his palm entirely to rake his fingers through Keith’s hair, letting their coldness seep into his scalp before turning them hot, hotter as they ran down Keith’s spine and down the back of his boxers, over the curve of his ass. Keith squirmed in his grasp and nodded, lashes fluttering and hips stuttering in their rhythm. _I’d let you, Keith, I’d let you finger me open until I was begging for it; you could even use your tongue until I screamed –_

“Fuck!” Keith sobbed, nails scratching at Shiro’s skin and leaving no marks, none at all. Shiro would let him leave as many as he wanted to, later, just to make up for it.

_Would you let me fuck you, Keith?_ Shiro continued, letting his fingers drift down and over his hole, prodding gently.

“Yes,” Keith whispered, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder, arching his back in blatant invitation. “Please – please, I want you to –”

_Want me to what, Keith?_

“I. I want you to fuck me,” Keith whispered. “I want you to claim me.”

_Keith, Keith, yes,_ Shiro murmured, overwhelmed. Kuron was swearing again. Shiro brushed a kiss over Keith’s cheek and smiled at him slyly. _It appears our audience is getting restless,_ he said. _Perhaps he’d like a better view?_

Keith smiled back and tugged off his boxers without hesitation, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  
Shiro slipped two fingers inside of him. They weren’t human, and he made them thinner and smoother so as not to hurt Keith, slowly thickening as Keith’s body adjusted around their girth. When Keith realized this he gasped and stared at Shiro with wide, wondering eyes, rolling his hips back onto the growing digits. “Shiro,” he breathed, “my Shiro.”

Kuro banged on the glass, chest heaving, face livid with rage.

_Yes, it’s me, I’m yours,_ Shiro said, making Keith moan brokenly when his hand squeezed and tugged around Keith’s cock while his fingers stroked deep and tingled with warmth inside him. _It’s me, and I’ll never leave you, I didn’t break my promise, not this time._

“I want to kiss you,” Keith pleaded, grabbing at Shiro’s hair as if it were made up of soft strands rather than smoky mist.

_You can try,_ Shiro offered, nuzzling his cheek. _We can try whatever you want._

“I want to come and I want you to come and I want to kiss you,” Keith said in a rush, eyes dark, and Shiro groaned and bucked into him – literally, into him, his body melded into Keith’s where it was less solid, painting his skin with a purple flicker of galaxy. Keith’s eyes flew wide and to Shiro’s shock he came at the sensation, panting, splattering violet with white. Shiro had to kiss him whichever way possible, just for that.

He opened his mouth to Keith’s and it wasn’t like any kiss he’d had before, it was all cold and hot and warm soft tongue and sharp teeth and the cool, rasping caress of his lips against Keith’s, cosmic dust curling around Keith’s tongue and against his throat, making Keith gasp and tug him closer.

Kuro was _howling_.

“Show me how to make you come,” Keith whispered, eyes half-lidded as Shiro’s fingers slipped out of him.

_I don’t know if that works in this form,_ Shiro admitted.

“If what works, your cock?” Keith scoffed, and palmed between Shiro’s legs relentlessly. “I think it works. It _better_ work.”

_Keith –_

It did work. Or at least, Shiro could feel Keith touching him and feel himself responding, sparks of pleasure igniting within him and manifesting in starry bursts of light across his skin, like living cosmos. Both of them gasped when Keith’s hand was consumed by the mauve mist curling from Shiro’s body, winding its way around Keith’s wrists and forearms and holding him close, Shiro’s cock throbbing, his whole body throbbing, pulsing brilliantly.

Shiro didn’t care about Kuron anymore. He couldn’t see anything but Keith; the world falling apart in slow motion around them, blurring between dimensions.

“You’re so beautiful,” Keith said breathlessly, running his other hand restlessly over Shiro’s celestial skin. “I’d want you no matter what, you know that? If – if this is all we can have, if this is what you are now…I don’t care, Shiro, don’t care because I love you more than anything –”

_To the moon and back,_ Shiro promised, watching as his mist tangled itself into Keith’s hair, wrapped in bruise-colored tendrils around his white neck, caressed his body like it was something precious, because it was.

“We’re way past the moon,” Keith laughed, and kissed him again, and Shiro’s skin exploded into supernovae, his body bowing against Keith’s, into Keith’s; everything swirling with color and sensation and light and dark and _energy_ , pouring into him, and he drank it up greedily, Keith’s pulse pounding against his lips. They were both falling, falling to the floor which met them hard and fast and Shiro could _feel_ it, could feel the shock in his knees and the weight of Keith in his lap and most of all he could feel Keith’s arms around him.

Shiro’s hands twitched, everything full of pins and needles like white static buzzing through his veins as he dazedly lifted his head and looked at Keith, hardly able to believe it.

Keith hugged him tighter, his eyes shining with happy tears, lips quirking in delight.

“Welcome back,” he said.


End file.
